Oblivious
by Archem
Summary: Stiles' undiscovered lust for Derek detonates after a night of heavy drinking. While it's just an ordinary drunken miscalculation to Stiles, it imparts something more.


"Look at him. What a sad existence," said Stiles as he observed Derek silently reading a book.

"Maybe he really likes reading. You know, more than interacting with people and stuff," Scott responded.

"I can hear you," Derek chimed, looking up from his novel. "And it's not because of my enhanced werewolf hearing, but simply because you're talking at regular volume rather than whispering, which is what normal people do when they talk about someone they're in the room with."

Derek proceeded to close his book and approach the two. "What do you want?"

Stiles started, "we noticed that we only really see you when there's some supernatural stuff going down and thought maybe you could use a friend...or two."

Scott smiled.

"Oh, _God_ no," Derek expressed. "Two kids who are always getting me into life-and-death situations are not my idea of the ideal 'friends'."

"Well, what is your idea, Mr. Hale sir, because it seems to me you don't have a clue," said Stiles.

"I don't need friends. I haven't for years and I don't now."

Derek turned and started to walk back toward the table with his novel on it.

"Please."

Scott's innocent voice and undeniably genuine tone stopped Derek in his tracks.

"Why do you care so much?" Derek's eyes oscillated between the two boys.

"Because you've been by my side through a lot of stuff and, whether you're willing to admit it or not, we are friends," Scott finished.

"You expect me to be friendly?"

"Oh, God. He can't even comprehend the concept," said Stiles, placing a hand on his own forehead.

"There's a warehouse rave tonight and we think you should come," said Scott.

"Not this again," Derek complained.

"Yes, they're a hot commodity among Beacon youth. Are you in or not?" Stiles demanded.

Derek knew he was making a big mistake by agreeing to their trial.

"We're such good people," Stiles complimented as he drove Scott home, the pitter-patter of light rain behind their conversation.

"I just want Derek to know that I recognize all the help. We only even speak when I need him for something," Scott explained.

It was late, about half past ten at night, but the rave wasn't till midnight. Since it was a Friday, they didn't need to worry about school, not that they would've cared even if it was a school night. They'd had plenty of their share of late-night supernatural escapades to not have a school night stop them from doing anything.

Stiles decided to go into Scott's house with him and wait for him to get ready, since it usually took Scott no time at all. Scott's severe comfort around Stiles became apparent when he walked out of his bathroom completely naked after showering.

"Ah, jeez. No one wants to see that." Stiles put his hand over his eyes.

"Hey, you're the one that stayed in my room while I showered. Did you expect me to change my routine for you?" Scott slipped on a pair of boxer briefs. "You can look now."

"If you're still naked, I'm leaving, and don't think even for a second that walking out of your bathroom fully naked is normal." Stiles slowly removed his hand from in front of his face.

About five minutes later, Scott was fully dressed.

"I'm a little afraid to wear any of my nice clothes to this thing. They like paint too much," Stiles interjected as he flung clothes from his drawer. Now, Scott was at Stiles' house, waiting on him to get ready, and it was taking a lot longer than it did for him.

"Will you hurry up? It's almost midnight."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot it was rude to be late to raves," Stiles retorted sarcastically.

Stiles and Scott expected Derek to be waiting outside when they got to the warehouse, but he was nowhere in sight.

"Where the hell is he?" inquired Stiles.

"Right here," Derek's voice suddenly appeared.

"Holy!" Stiles uttered bluntly, as him and Scott were both surprised to hear Derek's voice come from behind them. "You just love doing that," Stiles added.

"Let's get this over with," Derek lamented.

"I've gotta admit that you look pretty damn good," said Stiles as he analyzed Derek in his all-black clothing.

Much to his own surprise, Derek could feel himself blushing.

"Let's just go in," directed Derek before starting to walk toward the door while ducking his head to mask his slightly pink face.

"Sheesh. Pay this guy a compliment and he walks away," Stiles puffed before him and Scott began to make their way inside behind Derek.

"Crowded and loud. I never would've guessed," Derek commented sardonically after they got inside.

The rave was a usual mix of strobe lights and musical euphoria, but after about half an hour of dancing, drinking, and grinding on strangers, Stiles began to wonder why he hadn't seen Derek since they first arrived. He eventually found him, though, sitting on a staircase a couple feet from the crowd of partygoers, beer in hand.

"Dereeeek!" Stiles exclaimed while walking up to him and, much to Derek's discontent, planting a large hug around his arms.

"God, you smell like a brewery," said Derek before snatching a bottle of something from Stiles' hand. "Why are you drinking an entire bottle of dark liquor on your own? Didn't you drive yourself and Scott here?"

"Scott's gonna drive. He isn't drinking tonight. God, I'm not an idiot _Derek_," Stiles slurred his words.

"Yeah, well, your current state begs to differ," Derek grumbled before taking another swig of his beer and looking off at the crowd.

"Look who's talking. I know you drove here and you're drinking a beer."

"This is only my second one, genius."

"Aww, you think I'm a genius. That's really nice. I'm just good at school." Stiles' grasp at comprehending Derek's sarcasm was nonexistent in his drunkenness.

Derek rolled his eyes and continued to drink his beer. Suddenly, Stiles took a clumsy seat next to him on the staircase.

"Hey, Derek, wanna know a secret?" Stiles' breath smelled as if it was ninety percent alcohol. "I think I like boys too, and girls," he whispered. "And you're a boy," he finished while poking Derek's arm, and before suddenly laughing out of nowhere.

"Oh my God." Derek wasn't the most skilled at sorting out drunk people. "You're so drunk, kid."

"Hey, hey. Let me finish my...my story," Stiles continued. "I think you should come to my house after the party and see my, my room, again."

"Why? I've already seen your room." Derek knew Stiles was talking nonsense at the moment, but figured he might as well respond, since he had nothing better to do.

"Because you're cool, and cool people can, can come in my house, but only you can watch me change."

"Change? Change what?"

"Change clothes, silly."

It took a lot to make Derek feel uncomfortable, but Stiles had done it. All Derek could do was scratch his neck and look away from Stiles.

"Uh, Stiles? I think maybe you should go find Scott so he can sober you up or something."

"You don't wanna watch me change? 'Cause my daddy's working late tonight, so you could touch me and stuff, if you want. I promise he won't find out."

"Please stop talking." Derek's face was noticeably red. He frantically peered at the dancers, hoping to see Scott.

"Okay, fine. I'll stop talking if you come home with me. We only do what you wanna do. I just want you to just come there with me after the party and hang out."

"Okay. Just please shut the hell up." Derek wanted nothing more than to walk away from him, but his inexplicable weak spot for Stiles wouldn't allow him to.

"There you guys are," said Scott after finally finding Stiles and Derek. "What are you guys doing over here?"

"I've been babysitting your wasted friend for the past fifteen minutes."

"Yeah, and Derek's gonna come home with me," Stiles blurted drunkenly.

Derek looked at the ceiling. "It was the only way to make him be quiet."

"So, are you actually gonna do it?" asked Scott.

"I told him I would, but I don't want to."

"How about I come with you guys? That way, you don't have to worry about Stiles getting on your nerves."

"Whatever," Derek responded.

"I've gotta say, I'm surprised you're even considering going. Since when do you care about doing what people ask you to?" Scott inquired.

"I don't know. Since when do I go to warehouse raves with teenagers? None of this is sequitur," Derek said as he walked toward the exit.

Stiles immediately tripped after walking into his bedroom. "Welcome," he smiled, still highly intoxicated.

Derek sighed, wondering what he was doing there. Scott plopped down on his back onto Stiles' bed. Stiles then immediately came and laid on top of him.

"What are you doing?" Scott laughed, tired from partying.

"I'm about to take your pants off," Stiles said, also laughing.

He started to unbuckle Scott's belt while still lying on top of him. Derek looked around the room uncomfortably, not knowing what he was witnessing.

"I know you're waiting on me to stop you, but I'm not going to," Scott informed Stiles.

Derek then realized they were playing chicken, a game where the first person to become too uncomfortable to continue loses.

"Are you chicken yet?" Stiles asked.

"Nope." Scott let him proceed with unzipping his pants.

At that point, Derek was staring at the scene, entranced by their mutual commitment to winning. Stiles brushed his lips against Scott's. He was just about to reach into Scott's underwear when he gave up.

"I'm chicken. This is so wrong. You're like my brother," Stiles said before overflowing with laughter, Scott's laughter following.

Derek broke out of his trance. He didn't know what was gonna end up happening if they had continued.

"You seemed like you were actually really turned on," Scott commented to Stiles.

"I really am, but I just can't take myself there with you. I was trying to make myself okay with touching your privates, but it was just too weird."

Scott and Stiles both still hadn't yet remembered Derek was in the room with them.

Scott started to rub Stiles back under his shirt. "I kinda wanna take advantage of you right now. I'm not gay, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to reach in my pants."

Derek cleared his throat. Scott and Stiles both quickly turned their heads toward him.

"Oh, that's right. I asked Derek to come over," Stiles remembered.

"Why'd you do that, anyway?" Scott asked.

"Because he's hot as hell," Stiles explained, too drunk to realize Derek could hear him.

Scott looked over at Derek, feeling the awkwardness of the situation. "Uh, Stiles? Maybe you should rest and let Derek go home."

"Dude, I just wanna hang with Derek for a little while. Don't worry. It's all good. You got my drunk ass home, so you can go home and sleep now. I know you're tired."

"If you say so. I'll see you guys later, then." Scott yawned before grabbing his phone, zipping up his jacket, and leaving out.

"Stiles, why am I here?" Derek asked, dumbfounded and confused at that point.

"Come sit on the bed with me and I'll explain."

Derek sighed and did as Stiles asked. "What?" he demanded after sitting beside him.

"I wanna have sex with you," Stiles said plainly.

Derek's face had changed colors a lot that day, but it was now the reddest it'd been thus far. "You're drunk, Stiles. You're not even gonna remember this later."

"Do you wanna have sex with me?" Stiles asked, his speech impeded by intoxication.

Derek wanted to say something, but his breath was being taken away by the acute sensation that was the result of Stiles rubbing his thigh.

"Why me?" Derek asked.

When Derek was around Stiles, his guard was always down. He didn't understand it. He would never ask anything so earnestly under normal circumstances.

Stiles started to remove Derek's clothes and Derek knew he was in a difficult situation. Every part of him knew he should leave, but the primal werewolf in him wanted nothing more than to give Stiles everything he had until he was begging him not to stop. Pretty soon, Stiles removed Derek's shirt. Then, he started to unbutton and unzip Derek's jeans, until he finally jumped up to stop him.

"We can't. You're drunk and you don't know what you're doing. Here, I'll show it to you. You see?"

Derek revealed himself to Stiles and quickly left the room. Not long after Derek had left, Stiles was fast asleep, facedown on his bed.


End file.
